


The train on fire

by mysticmilks



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, Stranded, and there was only one room...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmilks/pseuds/mysticmilks
Summary: During his business trip to Russia, Hux needs to take a train from Moscow to St. Petersburg. What he doesn’t know is that the train takes more than eight hours and that he is going to have a ‘roommate’ for that night.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 113
Kudos: 269





	1. Ep1: Little trouble in big (and cold) Russia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirenya_Kino1612](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirenya_Kino1612/gifts).



That was a nightmarish day for Hux. More precisely the whole ten days of an endless nightmare. And he does want to be very precise about it. He tries to be precise about every aspect of his life, and he's proud of it.

Hux spent two working weeks on a business trip to Moscow. That's exactly nine days more than he planned. He doesn't like it when things do not go as he planned. And it was exactly ten days more than he had ever wanted. That's the patient zero of all his current problems.

If he had found joy in talking with strangers, pitching his ideas to a pack of criminal looking men, or traveling across the globe to foreign countries, he'd never have chosen to be a data analyst. He likes sitting in his own cubicle. He likes working with numbers. And he likes his small but efficient team who look at him with reverence and adhere to a proper distance. His work is the only thing he has always been sure about, and that he has perfectly planned since high school.

The one and only wild card in Hux's plans, the variable he couldn't compute was the current owner of his firm, his old and grouchy boss Aslan Snoke. He'd bought the firm, almost three years ago, under extremely suspicious, and potentially illegal circumstances. Leaving would have impeded Hux's career, so he'd stayed and suffered under the unpredictable and volatile leadership of the new but very ancient boss.

Exactly two Wednesdays ago, Snoke had called Hux to his office and announced that Hux needed to forget about all of his plans, take a flight to Moscow and present his project directly to their clients, and old friends of Snoke.

“A small trip”, that wrinkled monster had said that evening. “Probably you wouldn't even need to stay for the night, Armitage. Fly there, impress them, and fly back home. And do not disappoint me,” the old bastard added with a warped smile, exhaling smoke and putting a cigarette butt into a golden ashtray. Everything was golden and crimson in his tacky office, and Hux hated it. He was going to redecorate it when it became his office.

He didn't fly back the same day he came. He was swamped in famous Russian hospitality mixed with infamous Russian drinking. The first day they didn't even let him do the presentation.

Meetings. Negotiations. Restaurants. Vodka. Sauna. Hangover. More meetings. Jokes about drinking vodka. And jokes about 'bad western' stereotypes about Mother Russia. Cold. Terrible cold. Terrible traffic. Snow. Ugly stains from melted snow on his shoes. More vodka. More hangovers.

Today Hux has woken up in his relatively nice hotel room, ate an almost tasty hotel breakfast in the half-empty dining hall, and ordered the Russian equivalent of Uber —something named Yandex Taxi— to get to the office. All that time he was in a relatively uplifted mood, because he was certain that today was his final day in this frozen hell.

Why wouldn't he be certain? He'd presented them all the data, made a convincing case about increasing profit for both of the companies, they even celebrated success yesterday, even with some champagne. And champagne in the middle of Wednesday means the deal is sealed. Right?

"Everything is fine. Everything is great," says Sergey with a terrible Russian accent that’s straight from second rated standup comedy, "Now you need to meet the Boss."

Sergey, the director of the Russian IT company  _ Russian Bots, _ also an old man, but not as old as Snoke—no one was as old as Snoke, Hux was sure. Also, Hux was sure that it was just a front, and money laundering firm. So he didn't get why they were so indecisive.

Meet the Boss? What does that even mean? Are they from a bad movie about post-soviet Russia? Why can he talk with 'the boss' by Skype and go home?

“No,” explains Sergey, “the online meeting doesn’t work for him. The boss is an old-fashioned man. He likes traditional ways. He's the man of another time.” Something-something about 'respect'. Something-something about trust. Something-something about the famous beauty of St. Petersburg.

Hux didn’t understand it. How the owner of an IT company—even a fake IT company—may dislike doing things online. It doesn’t make any sense. But he didn’t point out those gaps in logic.

Hux immediately buys the ticket for the next flight, takes a taxi and goes to the airport, silently repeating all the curses he knows as a prayer, including Russian ones that Sergey and his team spent the last week teaching him.

The snow that started when he hailed a taxi has turned into a heavy storm. His flight is delayed for the third time, and the forecast shows that it won't get any better soon. The best prediction so far is two days of snow, and that means staying for the weekend, postponing the meeting, being eaten alive by Snoke. Maybe that is the secret of his immortality, thought Hux unbidden, maybe he eats his employees. That would explain a lot.

His only chance to get to the meeting tomorrow is to take a train, as a smiling girl tells him, in the airport cafe, and Hux is committed to doing anything to finally leave this country and forget all of it as a bad dream.

Getting a taxi back to the city is an adventure of its own. But having almost unlimited amounts of money, Hux doesn't care that he is literally robbed by a cunning-looking taxi driver, who proceeds to angrily tell Hux something in Russian the whole way to the train station. From a few words and proper names Hux understands he's chatting about politics, although it's impossible to guess if he supports or condemns the current regime by a mix of angry tone and constant laughing.

Another unpleasant surprise waits for Hux at the train station. After he wanders around the palace-like building with no easily spotted signs and finally finds the ticket office, the lady in there explains to him with broken English that there are no tickets on the fast train, only tickets for a regular one are left.

"It's okay", he says, giving a note from his much thinner wallet. Then he looks at the ticket.

Hux can't believe it - it's more than eight hours ride. His back will hate him after sitting for so long, but he has no other choice and goes through packed halls to the platform muttering curses more crossly.

Communication with a train-conductor–a middle-aged lady with bright makeup in an oversized coat forming her winter uniform— is part three of the unpleasant adventure of the day: the lack of common language strikes back. It's the worst communication so far. She doesn't speak English. At all. Hux doesn't speak Russian. He knows a few words, like yes and no, and, thanks to Sergey, various ways to express his frustration using different names for genitalia in Russian. He won’t say them. Will try not to, although he really craves too.

She speaks louder and slower – Hux tries to use a translator app on his phone. Probably because of the storm his mobile internet is slow. After a minute struggling, she calls him 'IDIOT', adds one of the words Sergey taught Hux, looking clearly irritated and tired. And, when Hux is ready to start searching for anyone who knows English and hire them as a translator, she grabs him by his elbow, drags him inside the train.

After ascending steep metal stairs and passing a tiny and dark antechamber, they emerge in a well lit, narrow hallway with a bright carpet on the floor, a row of windows with blue curtains on the left side, and sliding doors on the right.

Hux follows behind her. The width of the hallway doesn't allow them to go besides. He peeks around and starts suspecting that the train isn't what he expected it to be. It definitely doesn't look like the train he usually takes to visit his mom and her girlfriend in Glasgow.

  
  


The conductor opens one of the sliding doors, just around the middle of the hallway, says "Velcom", adds something else in Russian and leaves him in what appears to be a room.

  
  


It's not that bad. It looks like something from historic movies where characters are traveling in small compartments. But this one looks like it was decorated by a colorblind prison designer. It's smaller than the cupboard where Harry Potter lived, but it has two tiny bunks mounted to the opposite walls, a miniature table between them and a window with the same blue curtains. A horrible dirty-red carpet lies on the floor. Still, better than sitting for the whole night, decides Hux. He can sleep and have a fresh mind tomorrow.

Wait, what?

Hux's brain catches up with the observed reality. Why does it have two bunks? Is he going to share this cell with some random stranger?

No, this won't do. That must have been a mistake. Hux is not a student who sleeps in a moving hostel, while some drunk Vasya is snoring less than a meter away. 

He takes a long inhale, calming his panic down, and reasons with himself. He decides that he will act logically, as a capable grown up he is, will prepare a translation of his demands beforehand, go to the lady-conductor and pay for the whole room. He doesn't want to reinforce stereotypes, but he is sure that he can easily bribe her.

Finishing fiddling with his translator app, Hux turns to the door to exit, but instead of the white plastic with a mirror on it, he sees a huge man, whose frame occupies the doorway.

The intruder smiles at Hux, says something in Russian that must be a form of greeting, enters the small space, closing the door behind him, stepping past Hux and throws his backpack on the left bunk.

The man is young, somewhere around mid-twenties, maybe a bit younger than Hux, tall and broad. His dark hair is wavy and goes almost to his shoulders. Hux won't call him handsome, but he has interesting features and would catch Hux's eye if he saw this man in the bar or on a crowded bus.

He wears black jeans, a black long down jacket, and beanie, also black with red stitched YOLO on it. Probably, a student decides Hux. It's even better, easier to come to an agreement, better chance that he knows English and needs cash.

"I'll give you money," Hux says slowly, and clearly, staring at him, searching for the signs of comprehension on his angular face "if you leave the room."

The stranger looks back at him and frowns.

Okay, this sentence must be too long for him. No problem. Hux will try again.

He takes his wallet from his coat pocket and shows the man two banknotes, counting in his head how much he needs to give. Thankfully, Snoke hinted that bribes are included in his travel budget.

"I'll give you money," Hux makes a 'give' gesture, then points at the door, showing moving legs with his fingers, "if you go away."

It's almost all he has in cash, but it's much more than the ticket and a room in a good hotel would cost. More than a generous offer for a young man, and presumably unemployed student.

Hux is so tired from this long day. All he needs right now is solitude and silence. It's essential to have a good sleep before tomorrow's meeting, or he will be stuck in this country longer, or, even worse go back to Snoke without a deal.

When the man doesn't react except frowning a bit more and piercing Hux with his gaze, Hux adds one more banknote, waving them in front of his face.

"Do you understand me?" Hux uses the universal technique for communicating with foreigners by talking louder and slower, "take the money and leave."

He is ready to take his phone —what he should have done before instead of this circus with gesturing and screaming— and translate it in Russian when he hears a low chuckle.

"I do," the man says with a perfect American accent. "I understand that you're an asshole.”

He is grinning at Hux like it was the funniest comeback in the history of the world. And who is an asshole now?

"Excellent," it's a part of Hux's work to speak with jerks. It's his least favorite part, admittingly, and thankfully less frequent. He won't swallow bait from this one, "Now, that we established that we can communicate in one language, let's move back to business. Do you accept my offer to resell your ticket to me, and get away from this cramped space?"

"And where will I go?" asks the stranger, crossing his arms on his chest and raising his eyebrows more theatrically than needed. Such an extra gesture.

“To another room in this pathetic train, to your home, to a hotel. You will have enough money to figure it out yourself. I, honestly, don't care as long as this compartment fully belongs to me. So do we reach a mutually satisfactory agreement?”

"It is a temptation," he pauses and looks over Hux, from top to bottom, and then to top again, lingering in the middle.

His gaze and tone make Hux think he is not talking about the money.

"Such a temptation to take your dirty money and do as you command," he makes a step closer and whispers barely audible, "do you propose  _ that _ to everyone or only to me? Am I special?"

Hux feels lost. What is he talking about? What is going on? Why is he so close? Why does his cologne smell like the air after a storm?

"I can take it," his voice is utterly obscene now. The man comes even closer, making Hux step back and lean against the door "Oh, I can take it all," the man licks his lips. “And then we will reach a mutually satisfactory agreement.”

Hux should move, say something, the man could be insane, dangerous, but he is frozen, unable to talk, partially shocked and partially curious about where it is all going. Maybe he met a hooker who is desperate to find clients?

"You'd like it. Proposing such a thing to strangers, you..." he doesn't finish because the train jolts, and starts moving, slowly accelerating its speed.

The man takes a step back, sits on the bunk near his backpack and grins at Hux.

"Sorry, pumpkin." his voice is at normal volume again, and it is full of mockery, "Too late. Now we are stuck here together for the long cold Russian night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> This story evolved from old twitter head-canon, which evolved to twitter-fic.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280)  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	2. Ep2: Stuck with an idiot. Damn it.

Feeling the movement of the train, and staring at the sneering man, Hux is unable to believe that he’s sharing this meager space with someone that immature and deliberately obtuse. That is a hazardous union: young and stupid, in one oversized package.

Who in their right mind rejects almost two hundred pounds worth of cash for a chance to act like a crazy whore and ruin someone else’s journey? The answer is obvious.

"You are an idiot!" spits Hux, his tone dripping with venom and contempt.

"And you are an asshole." The man has the impudence to continue grinning with his asymmetric mouth. Totally unattractive mouth with too thick lips that looks like ugly worms, Hux adds inwardly.

That's enough for one day! Too many unpredicted and uncontrollable situations have been ruining Hux’s plans. He loves his plans. He loves order. And this man is the epitome of chaos — Hux feels it in his guts.

Hux leaves the compartment, without saying a word, taking his small trolley bag with him. It's uncomfortable, rattles with each step, but he won't leave any possessions with that psycho. He goes down the corridor searching for the conductor. He will pay her and will have another room all for himself. No need to find common ground with any stubborn idiot.

A lot of people are snooping around in the narrow hallway. The other compartments, as Hux can see passing the opened doors, are all full.

Some passengers have already changed into lighter, and more casual clothes and some have started eating and even drinking. He can smell fried chicken and pickles. To his horror, Hux sees someone with a guitar. That reminds him of his college dorm, and those memories aren’t pleasant.

The meeting with the conductor doesn't go as Hux planned. He finally finds her in the small compartment near the exit to the carriage. She's writing in a big journal and doesn't even let him start explaining his horrible situation.

It's hard to guess why exactly she is irritated but she dismisses him. Without taking her gaze away from the journal, she scolds him, and angrily gestures for him to go away. Obviously, all that in Russian. She looks so intimidating, that Hux remembers the proverb Sergey told him in the sauna two days ago — the real Russian woman can stop a running horse and enter a burning hut. Hux has no idea why someone would do that, but this woman seems like she can do both, and that will only be the start of her day. Hux wisely decided not to argue and backs away.

Hux won’t let it slide. He will write a formal complaint. He'll find her superiors and he'll address this rude behavior. Maybe, even demand compensation for his ruined trip. She’ll see. But only after Hux will be far away from her and her train.

When Hux comes back to his compartment, his strange roommate is still there, sprawling on the bunk. He took off his winter coat and his combat boots. The man is so tall that he barely fits the cot. His feet are hanging in the air, showing the world, and currently Hux, his black socks with a small hole on the left one. Gross.

“Oh, you are back. You missed me. I see,” he gives Hux a curious look, "Was it my charisma or my charms?"

"Shut up."

"Do you always offer strangers money when they are around you on the train?" the man raises his brows.

"Do you always act like an insane harlot when you are near a stranger on the train?" Hux asks him instead of answering.

Hux regrets it immediately after seeing his mischievous smile widening. He should have just ignored this man-child.

"Nope. Only around cute assholes," the idiot gives Hux one more blatant once-over.

That’s it. The last drop. Hux won't tolerate mocking from anyone, but especially from this man. After a major defeat with the conductor, he needs to show who is in charge.

"Listen here and listen carefully! Since I'm forced to spend my time in this moving prison cell with you,” Hux raises his voice and uses the tone and facial expression that he trained for speaking with his underlings, “I set up the rules: no talking, no stupid jokes. You’re neither witty nor funny, and whoever told you otherwise— was it your mom?—was lying to you. Try to pretend that you are a well behaved sentient being. I know it'd be difficult for you, so just be silent and do not cross this line," Hux puts all of his innate British haughtiness in his speech. He draws a mark on the floor with his foot and glares at the man, prepared for further confrontation.

The man looks back at Hux, says nothing while simultaneously typing on his phone. How rude!

Then a female electronic voice articulates, "Yes, General pumpkin, sir," and the man grins.

Bloody idiot!

Hux has never been an expert in kids and other simple beings, simple beings like the man he's currently sharing this room with. But Hux is sure that paying attention to their antics will only provoke more frolicking.

He decides to completely ignore his awful roommate. He takes his coat off and lays on the empty bunk. He closes his eyes, feeling a headache starting to form pressure in his temples, and the troubles of the day threaten to spike his anxiety.

This ridiculous absurdity can’t be his life, thinks Hux. It simply can not. He is a respected analyst manager for the First Order, one of the most influential auditing firms in the European and East European markets. He's basically one step away from ruling the said firm, if only he finds a way to send Snoke to a well-overdue retirement.

He is not a hippie-backpacker who stays at hostels and meets new strange people. This crazy day is simply not for a person like him. He can not lower himself into arguments with this random man-child. Even if he wants to. He will relax and find a way to change the room, like an adult, he repeats to himself, remembering his breathing meditation routine.

With Snoke sending him to Russia, all of his usual work, and his bi-quarterly goals were postponed. He can waste time creating the new adjusted plans, but for that, he needs to know when he'll be back, and he needs to know the results of this business trip. Unable to prepare ahead, unable to manage his own time, and his own literal position in the world Hux is stuck in torturous limbo for the last two weeks. And he suspects that Snoke knew about it. The old bastard wanted him to suffer.

Hux opens his work mail anyway. He isn't sure how else to distract himself before he's able to summon his courage to talk with the lady conductor again.

He reads new emails, contemplating why he gets so many not-work-related letters from his coworkers. Who cares about Karen's birthday, or about cocktails on Friday? He comes there to do his job not to make friends.

He's in the middle of writing to a hotel, requiring an upgrade of his room—he deserves that, and Snoke better approves his expenses—when he hears the rustling of fabric from his right.

Hux turns his head to demand complete silence — he is actually working here, unlike this rude, noisy and presumably unemployed roommate. The eloquent reprimand is stuck in his throat when he catches the glimpse of the man.

Hux can't believe his eyes, because his roommate is undressing. He sits on the edge of his bunk, pulling his jeans down. He reveals black—is he some kind of goth?—winter leggings under them. The leggings cling to his legs, and all other parts, like a second skin, leaving next to nothing to Hux's imagination.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Hux exclaims quietly when he's finally unfrozen from the initial shock.

The man acts like he didn't hear Hux, and pulls off his leggings to expose his muscular legs and tight black boxers. They are so close to Hux's face that he can discern thin light hair on his calves. He turns away, feeling his cheeks getting warmer.

"I’m changing," explains the man, in a neutral tone, as if it's a totally normal thing. "What's with the face, Pumpkin? You, General, didn't set any rules about the dress code."

In his peripheral vision, Hux notices that the man indeed draws black sweatpants from his bag and starts to put them on. Thankfully. The situation would be much worse if this stranger decided to stay undressed.

"I didn't presume that I needed to state the obvious,” mutters Hux, not looking directly at him. “No normal sane person would take their pants off in front of a stranger."

“I’m not planning to boil myself alive in uncomfortable warm clothes. Not because your sophisticated manners would be affected. You see, not all people can afford to travel by taxi and suggest hundreds of cash only because they want the whole compartment for themselves. Some of us really count money and use public transport. Hence some of us need warm pants not to freeze our balls,” he smirks, staring directly at Hux’s eyes and then moving his gaze slowly down, “And don’t act as if a stranger has never taken off their pants anywhere near your face.”

Hux opens his mouth ready to give a speech. He is going to tell this brute that first, he has earned every cent he owns, and he is in his right to enjoy the comfort the money can provide. Secondly, if any well-behaved person needs to change, they find a proper place or ask everyone else to turn away, and do not rip their clothes off like a discount Magic Mike, and thirdly, it's not his business who undresses in front...

Hux falls completely and utterly speechless for the second time, gawking at the man when he takes off his pullover above his head, stuck there for a second, and his shirt—obviously and boringly black—goes up with it, revealing his perfect abs, a side of a muscular back with a few unpleasant scars, and broad chest with pale-pink nipples. Lots of moles cover his skin. Yeah, maybe Hux should take back his thoughts about discount Magic Mike. This man definitely spends his days in the gym.

The vision disappears. The man finally overcomes the issue with his pullover, throws it on his backpack, shakes his unruly mane, adjusts his shirt, hiding his impressive body, and catches Hux's gaze. He widens his smile.

Hux immediately turns away, without thinking, but it's too late, the man has definitely noticed. And now Hux berates himself for acting like an embarrassed teen. What the hell? He shouldn't be just blushing from the glimpse of skin and happy trail.

“Enjoyed the view?” the voice from the other cot asks. The voice is normal, without mockery or fake seduction in it. "I’m Ben, by the way."

“I don’t care,” Hux answers as contemptuously as he can, without turning back.

“Hi, I-don’t-care, nice to meet you,” smiles the idiot. Hux can't see it but hears that goofy grin in his reply.

These, all these, are juvenile and stupid. And Hux hates himself for acting like a teen boy too.

"I said no talking and you agreed," Hux reminds him with a sigh. Hux makes a point of ignoring him and stares at his phone.

A few minutes later, he catches himself rereading the reply from the financial department a few times but doesn't grasp the meaning. Why is the presence of this stranger so annoying and distracting? Why does Hux want to check him out again, or say something mean? It's probably overall exhaustion from this crazy week and has nothing to do with the man himself.

"Why are you the one who set the rules?" the voice interrupts Hux’s self-analyzing session.

"You agreed to them. Remember your stupid jape with the phone?" Hux says, trying and failing to come up with a sophisticated insult, "So keep your mouth shut."

“Are you always this bossy?” asks the man—Ben—after a pause.

When Hux turns his head, he is sitting on the edge of his bunk, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. His legs are spread. And he's staring intensely at Hux, as a scientist at a lab mouse.

Hux gazes back. He swallows, studying Ben's face. Hux wants to catalog all of his flaws. No, he isn't conventionally handsome, that’s for sure. There is something else in his looks that draws Hux's attention to him. His features are peculiar: too big nose, prolonged angular face, and his plush, currently smirking, lips are downright sinful. With all of that together, Hux simply fails to call him unattractive.

"You are still talking," Hux says lamely, not finding a better response. Damn it! Instead of his normal voice that commands respect, it comes out weak and quiet. He feels like a lab mouse, but not in front of a scientist, but in front of a snake. One dangerous, but mesmerizing snake. "You should stop."

“They say that bossy people are very submissive in bed," murmurs Ben, ignoring Hux's order.

His voice sounds lewd and seductive, but the opposite to his absurd performance when he entered the compartment. Now he talks low and husky. It goes straight to Hux's core melting him from inside. He feels his toes curling in his shoes.

It's a game. A silly, shallow game. Hux knows that. But one he hasn't played for quite a while. Maybe that's the reason why he reacts to this strangely. It must be.

"Is that true, Pumpkin?" Ben asks before Hux is able to deny it, "You do sound like someone who gets off from being told to shut up and undress. You—”

"You are an idiot," Hux interrupts. He summons all his wit, but that's the only comeback he is able to come up with. Ben’s words, Ben’s looks, the absurdity of the situation has done something to Hux's brain. And to his body. Hopefully, his arousal isn't noticeable. But why does Hux even care?

"You aren't denying," Ben whispers, leaning closer. In this tiny room, he's mere centimeters away from Hux's face.

Hux should deny. He really should deny and make this man shut up. Just one phrase with the right intonation and this farce will be over. The problem is he doesn't remember why he should want it to be over.

"Such an idiot," Hux says instead. Like a broken record.

"Sticks and stones," Ben chuckles, bending even closer. His hand moves in the direction to Hux's face, and it's the perfect moment to tell him to fuck off, but Hux’s mouth is dry. He orders himself not to close his eyes.

Hux hears the knock, and the moment later the door slides open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> This story evolved from old twitter head-canon, which evolved to twitter-fic.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	3. Ep3: Why are they (constantly) interrupted?

Like a startled bird, Hux abruptly jolts away from Ben, leaning his back on the wall behind him, feeling flustered and perplexed, but willing himself to breathe normally.

There is the rude lady conductor, standing at the doorway. Hux's brain agrees that it was the only logical invader—who else could have bulged in their compartment uninvited? Simultaneously his inner critic berates him for acting like a spooked teen, who was caught sucking faces with his school friend. He is a grown-ass man, and he shouldn't be ashamed of anything. Especially because there was nothing going on that he could be ashamed of.

The conductor orders something in her cheerfully-angry-command voice. When Hux looks at her, he sees a shade of recognition on her face, she curses. Hux recognizes this one, it means a promiscuous woman and expresses general frustration with the current situation. Then she repeats her last phrases louder with bizarre gesturing.

Her intervention reminds Hux, and very timely one might notice, that he wanted to change the compartment, and spend this night alone, or at least far away from this weird and bad-mannered man. Hux still wants to leave Ben, he decides quickly, taking his phone from the table.

She continues demanding something, or for something, looking at them expectedly.

"Your ticket," calmly translates Ben, passing his own one to her, with a smug shit-eating grin, "Give it to her. The poor woman is waiting."

The asshole knew it all along and must have been enjoying the situation and Hux’s suffering.

Hux fiddles in his pocket searching for his ticket and passes it to her without further questions. She takes it, marks something on it and tells them more things in Russian, that Hux doesn’t understand. He should have guessed it, there’s literally no other reasons for her to be here. On the other hand, she already checked it when he was entering the train, so it makes even less sense. But she has a stack of tickets in her hand, and Ben appears to be unperturbed, so maybe, just maybe, it's how they do things here. While Hux considers this, Ben is all smiles and politeness, telling her something and even making her chuckle. Hux couldn't even imagine that this woman was capable of laughing.

She and Ben are discussing something and it looks somewhere in between flirting or chatting with one's elderly aunt — either way gross. Hux remembers himself and uses this time to quickly type in translator 'I need a new room. I have money."

Hux is attempting to read it in Russian but struggles with pronunciation. Both she and Ben shut up and carefully look at him. Their faces are stuck halfway frowning and halfway clear incomprehension.

"You sound like a drunk robot and you are humiliating yourself. You know that, right?" smiles Ben after his second attempt, and says something in Russian to the conductor, pointing to Hux.

That's over the top rude, even for Ben. How dares he not only to interrupt Hux, but also to make fun of him in the language he knows perfectly well Hux doesn't understand? If this Ben thinks Hux is a doormat and will simply sit here and pretend it's okay, he is utterly mistaken. He might not be a physically strong man, but he isn't a scrawny school nerd either.

The lady conductor starts to explain something in response, looking at the tickets and at a device in her hand, and Hux only gets  _ N’ET _ which he knows means no.

"Right now there is no free compartment," Ben translates. "But there will be one around 3 am, after Malaya Vishera stop. Other than that, you can wait till around midnight and check if someone won't come in Tver. She also says that she'll ask her coworkers from other carriages too, but all tickets were sold out because of the snowstorm and canceled buses. Don’t hold your breath, Pumpkin."

Hux understands that he doesn't understand anything. It sounds like Ben isn’t tricking him, and genuinely wants to help him, and that's truly strange. He himself wouldn't help anyone who was mean to him without a reason, or with a reason, for that matter. Not for free, anyway.

"Thanks," he mutters to both of them. Ben repeats that in Russian and the woman nods, leaving them alone.

"Why did you help me?" asks Hux, after the door closes behind her with a click. He maintains his voice on a mildly surprising level. He doesn't get this man's motivation at all, but can't reveal his interest. It's a game after all.

"Why not?" Ben grins. Damn it, it suits him. Somehow it makes his face impossible to look away from.

They sit in front of each other again, each one on their own bunk. Ben is tilting forward. Again. And Hux makes a point of reclining on the wall, and looking relaxed and disinterested.

"Because I'm an asshole," Hux smiles too. It's his special cold one, where only his lips smile, and all the rest stays menacingly and unnervingly indifferent. He worked on it. In front of the mirror, since he was twelve. Now it's shaped to perfection.

"True. You're an asshole. A pretty one too. And you know English. Which is nice for a change. We can keep each other company and both benefit from it. I'd love that. But I’m not interested in keeping anyone around, who doesn't want to be near me," he pauses, staring at Hux, undressing him with his eyes. Or that how Hux interprets his intense gaze, "You can wait till Tver. You can go through the train bothering other conductors. That would be fun to watch with your poor pronunciation. Or you can stay. We both know what option you'll choose."

Presumptuous grinning moron!

"You don't know shit about me," hisses Hux, ready for a heated verbal fight. This man may be somewhat hot, but no one can talk like that to Hux. His hardened cock disagrees, but he isn't a teen. He can deal with his own body. Later, when he gets to his comfortable, and more importantly private hotel room.

Ben's smile becomes wider. Hux practically feels how he inhales before starting to explain to Hux how wrong he is. Yes, this is going to be a brawl of wits, and Hux will easily win it.

The door opens. Again. It’s her. Again. What the hell is wrong with this lady, she is ruining it for Hux the second time in…

Hux stops his inner monologue mid-sentence. Ruining what? A stupid argument with the man Hux didn’t want to talk with from the beginning of this journey? If anything he should thank her. Instead, Hux wants to hiss at her like a stray cat, so she disappears and doesn't bother them again. Him, Hux means him, doesn't bother him. He just needs some time alone. That’s it.

With her, she brings two cups of tea, packages of cookies, and waffles. Without asking for permission, or explaining anything, she comes in and puts all the goods on the small table between Hux and Ben.

Looking completely unsurprised by the appearance of sweets, Ben thanks her. He adds something else that makes her smile. Again. To Hux's further surprise, Ben keeps talking to her, apparently telling her some story, while she comments. She keeps giggling, like sixteen-years-old on her first date, and that's the same woman that yelled at Hux without any reason.

Hux keeps staring at them, then at tea, not getting what is going on. Why are there two cups? Is this some default option? Is that how the train company increases the survival rate among the passengers during cold Russian winters? Hux feels like Alice during the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, not sure what to do, how to react or when all of it will stop.

Maybe he is asleep? That would explain a sexy stranger, and why they are constantly interrupted. His subconscious hates him, that's a known fact. It won't be something new for him to have a sexy dream without sex but with an unhealthy dosage of absurd instead. For better or worse, it doesn't feel like a dream, though.

Finally, Ben stops chatting her up and gives her money. Hux notices that he struggles to find the notes in his almost empty shabby wallet. It isn't even a proper wallet, but a sad thing made from painted fabric, that is dirty from long use. It's more suited for a kid than for a grown-up man.

So it wasn’t complimentary drinks, and Ben actually ordered two cups., concludes Hux. The conductor wishes them good night—that Hux understands— and disappears, with that silly smile on her face.

  
  


The door closes behind her. They sit in the uncomfortable silence.

"That's for you," Ben points to one of the cups.

It's not a cup to be precise. It's a thin tall glass in a metal glass-holder. It looks nice with a flowery pattern ingrained in it and reminds Hux of a prop for a movie about the beginning of the twentieth century. Quite fitting for the whole train’s aesthetics.

"You like it, huh?" Ben asks, following Hux's gaze.

"It's unusual."

"Hm, our conductor asked me to ask you not to steal it."

"What?" Hux, caught off guard, huffs a small laugh. He should be outraged, but it's kinda hilarious. "Why would I?"

"Apparently, foreigners often do that, and then she's forced to pay for them. That's what she told me, and I promised not to take my eyes off you," explains Ben, taking a big gulp of tea, and making the face of a satisfied cat.

Hux studies him. The glass appears smaller in his huge hands. Hux always was a connoisseur for fine men's hands with long thick fingers, the hands that can caress and tease. He feels how his checks become hotter when he looks at Ben's face again.

Maybe this day isn't as bad after all. As a tea person, Hux strongly believes that a cup of good tea can improve any situation. A cup of tea with a promising view — even better.

He takes a slow sip and almost spits it out.

It's the worst beverage—no, the worst thing—he has ever tried. If it's an exaggeration then only a smidge. His mouth is defiled. It tastes like bad tap water mixed with bitter dirt.

His mood is ruined completely. And it only started to improve a moment ago.

"I knew you'd appraise it," Hux hears and looks up at Ben, and recognizes that the man in front of him is barely containing laughter, "I should have warned you. But to see your face—. It was too tempting. Add sugar, Pumpkin. It'll improve it."

"And turn this bitter water into vile water with sugar?" Hux asks bitterly, frowning at him.

"Sorry, your highness. I really am. I swear. But there are no other drinks on the train. No fancy cafes here. And this drink is hot, and it does matter" he pours sugar in his own glass and takes a big gulp, seemingly enjoying it.

Oh no, Hux almost considered having sex with such an awful person. Calling that tea, that’s beyond good and evil. Giving it to Hux. That is criminal. Whatever vague ideas Hux had about Ben before are now forgotten. He can not condone this.

"Don't talk to me anymore," Hux defiantly moves the glass away from himself, lays on his bunk and takes his phone.

It all doesn’t matter. In eight hours he'll be in St. Petersburg, take a taxi to his hotel, and forget the whole downer under a hot shower. He will drink real tea, and eat a nice hot breakfast, while Ben will scrap money for a shitty sandwich from some shitty bodega. That's how it'll be.

Eight hours is not that long, most of them Hux will be sleeping anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> This story evolved from old twitter head-canon, which evolved to twitter-fic.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	4. Ep4: Hux is bored, that’s the only reason

It's been a bit less than fifteen minutes since Hux decided not to interact with his roommate, and he's already bored to death. Precisely, it's been thirteen minutes. He knows that because checking the time is his one and only entertainment here.

The mobile internet is off. At first, it was lagging. 4G disappeared and appeared again a few times. When it showed 3G Hux started worried and decided to download a book on management, he was promising himself to read for the last month. It's stuck at 96% when the connection dies altogether.

There is nothing to do here. He doesn't have any preloaded books and podcasts. No silly games on his phone. Usually, all the seconds of his day are occupied with valuable tasks. Now his mind suffers from input deprivation. Attempting to sleep would be futile — that's for sure. It's half an hour till midnight in Russia, and with a three-hour difference, it's way too early for him. Maybe he is a slave to his habits, but he can't go to bed earlier than his schedule.

Not finding any better thing to do, Hux peeks at the other bunk. His horrible compartment mate is half-lying there, reading a book and appears to be occupied by it.

Discreetly Hux glances at the cover. It's old, shabby, plain blue, without any pictures — probably a textbook. Mildly surprisingly, it's in Russian. Hux's knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet tells him that the book is about soviet architecture. At least, that's two words that he discerns — 'Soviet architecture' and then five other words, the meaning of which he can’t guess. 

This could have been a good start to the conversation if Ben wasn’t the worst. But he is.

With nothing better to do anyway, Hux examines Ben again. Only because he's bored, Hux explains to himself, and because everything else in the compartment is even less interesting, no other reason. He can't look at the light grey plastic ceiling for the next two hours after all. Not without driving himself nuts anyway.

The man is maybe a little younger than Hux prefers but, other than that, he’s totally to Hux’s taste. It's true. No reason to pretend otherwise. If Hux would have a type — and he totally doesn't, because he isn't shallow — tall, dark and muscular would be it. A man who is strong enough to hold him up, and to hold him down with his huge hands. Obviously in theory, not like he allows anyone to drag him around like a rag doll.

But that doesn't matter. He doesn’t sleep with idiots. That's the rule. He is the one who came up with it, so it must be a good rule. And this man clearly is an idiot — no thick book without pictures will make Hux believe otherwise. An idiot and a buffoon.

Between turning pages, Ben frowns, as if remembering something important, looks left, notices Hux's gaze and smirks. Hux makes an effort not to turn away, like a naughty child.

Ben puts the book on the table, turns on his side, facing Hux and propping himself on his elbow. Hux's brain unsolicited provides an image of renaissance paintings, with ladies lying in the same pose. Naked ladies.

“You are bored without the internet, aren't you?” Ben asks, staring at him.

“You’re always asking stupid questions, aren't you?” Hux asks in a neutrally-haughty voice, feeling unexplained anger burning in his guts.

“Are you always rude to people or do you like when others are rude to you? You can just ask if that gets you off."

“You ask if I’m bored being locked for the whole night in a tiny room with a stranger without the internet or any other entertainment in the middle of Russian nowhere — and what kind of answer do you expect?” Hux replies with a question, ignoring Ben's attempt to embarrass him. Although, Hux’s dick didn’t ignore it, “I’m not bored, if you need to know. There's simply nothing to do here.”

“There are plenty of things to entertain yourself if you think about it." Ben looks at him up and down, a bit too intensely, "I bet you are the only bored person in this carriage. For example, people often drink on the train.”

“Russians drink everywhere.”

“Don’t speak in stereotypes. That's not nice. Although, you don't seem to be a nice person, Pumpkin. They also bring books to read. See," he points on the wall above his head, "a reading lamp. Every compartment has them.”

“I didn't bring a paper book,” admits Hux. He doesn't want Ben to think he isn't a habitual reader. "I didn't expect the mobile connection to vanish."

“You didn't prepare at all.”

"True," he admits again and adds, who knows why "My flight got cancelled. I wasn't supposed to be here. Neither right here nor in this country, for that matter."

"No kidding. It's obvious," Ben sits, putting his elbows on the small table between them. "You look like Bambi in the middle of the Moscow metro. Bambi in an expensive suit," he says, and Hux thinks it's even sweet, weird but sweet. But then, before Hux can react, Ben continues, grinning "Out of place and ridiculous."

"Stop it. You are not funny. I told you so already."

"I'm funny. You're just not ready to admit it."

Opting to ignore it Hux asks, "What else do the Russians do here since you pretend to be an expert?"

“I'm an expert. Definitely more an expert than you. Well, people talk about politics, about life, share secrets with strangers they will never meet again. It's kinda therapeutic, for the country that doesn't believe in therapy. What else? They play games.”

“What kind of games?” Hux goes for the safe option.

“Card games.”

“Not interested.” His father was a gambler. It ruined their family and his life. But that it's something Hux is going to share with this stranger. 'Therapeutic' or not.

"What a coincidence, I didn't propose that to you," Ben says. "And I don't have cards with me anyway."

"So, why did you bother me? Why did you ask that stupid question? Do you want to read to me in Russian? Or share some dark secrets?"

"Nope. But you are just plain charming when you pretend to be angry."

Hux wants to tell him to shut up, but he doesn't get a chance.

"Don't be upset, we still can play a game, Grumpy General," Ben says before Hux is able to come up with a sarcastic response. The smile that he gives Hux is blinding. And Hux actively fights himself not to smile back. 

"What game?"

"The guessing game," Ben stares at him and mischievous devils are sparking in his brown eyes.

He doesn't say anything else, and Hux is compelled to ask, already feeling like he was tricked by a con artist, "What guessing game?"

“I guess one random fact about you. If I'm right I'll dare you to do something.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” Hux asks, not hiding his ridicule of the idea. They are not twelve, playing a variation of Truth or Dare.

"Pumpkin, you are wearing a thin Burberry coat in the middle of Russian winter and pricey fancy shoes on a train," says Ben, "So yes, you do look like an idiot, as we already established two minutes ago. And probably feel like one too.“

“What is wrong with fancy shoes?" Hux gives him a murderous look, disregarding the rest of his puny insult. "Is there a rule that forbids style on a Russian train? No propaganda about good taste? Or people who wear sweatpants will see it and want to become stylish too?”

“Nope. Everything is much easier. Let's just say, you won’t ask after checking the toilet. Spoiler alert neither you nor your Derby will like it, General Pumpkin.”

Hux is frankly surprised that this man was able to easily recognize the brand of his shoes but he tries not to show it.

"Stop calling me Pumpkin,” he demands instead.

“Then what should I call you? You didn’t give me your name. I gave you mine and you acted like you were raised in a barn. One very uncivilized barn.”

"And I won't. I don't give my personal data to strangers. Especially to strangers who act like they’re crazy. And if you want me to continue talking to you, you'll stop using that stupid nickname."

"As you wish, General. Is General okay? Anyway, I'll dare you to tell me your name when I win," he winks and widens his grin as if everything is a joke and he’s the only one who understands it, "If you aren't afraid to play."

It’s a game, Hux reminds himself. All of it. It was from the moment this hot, but mad man entered his compartment. Hux understands that. He knows he’s being manipulated into playing without knowing the rules. But he can win this, and if he loses … well, he can simply cheat or send Ben and all his games to hell.

“What will I get if you don’t guess?” Hux asks, looking directly into his brown eyes.

“You will get a chance to dare me, and then it’ll be your turn to guess.”

"It won't be." he waits for Ben to raise his eyebrows and open his mouth to ask for clarification before Hux continues with a half-smirk, "At the first opportunity, I’ll dare you to leave and don’t come back."

"Ouch! Sends away a poor living man amidst the cold Russian winter? You are a cruel man," Ben makes a fake sad face. But Hux can see wicked sparks in his eyes. “We’ll see who will order what to whom. If you aren't afraid to play, ” Ben says, “But let’s make it a bit harder so my victory irritates you even more. Three right answers in a row and then a dare. And no cheating. I’ll know. Deal?”

“Deal," Hux shakes his outstretched hand. Pleasant warmth comes from it, and he almost forgets to add, "But spoiler alert, you will lose.”

"Oh, Pumpkin," Ben says, lowering his voice, not letting go of his hand only squeezing it a bit tighter, "Keep talking, it'll make my victory even more shameful for you. But I'll make sure that my dare will cheer you up."

"Are you done with trash talk?" Hux pulls away.

“I’m never done with it. You like it too. Admit it. But we can pause it for now,” he winks. “Let the game begin.”

"Go on, Ben, impress me."

After hearing his words the man sits back, inclining on the wall, and examines Hux mindfully. For once he doesn't smile or doesn't look like he wants to burn Hux's clothes down with his gaze. Hux tries to do the same, to study his opponent, but widely spread muscular legs in old sweatpants get all of Hux’s attention.

Ben catches his gaze, smirks again and leans forward, putting his hands on his knees. He looks closely at Hux. Hux wonders how much of it is real and how much is a show, but it takes an effort for him not to look down. He hopes he isn't blushing.

“I’m ready,” Ben says.

It reminds Hux that he wants to set more rules, to decide what actually counts as a guess, but he doesn’t have time to, and it'd be a sign of weakness.

“You know, they say that people are really honest with strangers on such trains. You can open up, and then leave in the morning and never see them again,” Ben’s voice is unexplainably serious and sad. "You can say things that you'd never say to your friends and family."

“Is it your guess?” asks Hux, unsure. He doesn’t get this man. One second he's goofing around and the next says things like this.

“No,” he replies with the same tone, then smiles as if nothing has happened, “Here it is: You are on a business trip in Russia.”

“That’s not a guess, that was obvious,” protests Hux, but without much passion yet. They can argue later. If Ben guesses the next two.

“You could have been here as a tourist or visiting someone. The obvious ones are that you are in your early thirties, British or that you are not straight.”

“That doesn’t count,” says Hux with metal in his voice. He won’t give up that easily.

“It doesn’t. That was just an example,” agrees Ben not stopping smirking. Stupidly nice smirk! “the second one - your daily commute is more than an hour one way.”

That was random but right so Hux nods, concealing his surprise.

“Oh, nice. See, that was just a wild guess and clever use of statistics. And the third, and victorious one. Let me think. Nice suit. Nice shoes. Business trip to Moscow. Obviously, for the first time in Russia. So who are you? You are,” he makes a long pause clearly faking pondering, “an analyst manager,”

This time Hux can’t hide his shock. That’s unbelievably specific, impossible to just randomly say.

“Right, Armitage?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	5. Ep5: Scared and horny, I mean intrigued, scared and intrigued

The bitter wave of panic rises in Hux's chest and worms it's way up to his throat. He side-eyes the door. It's less than two meters from him if he jumps to it, grabs the polished handle, slides it open and gets to the corridor he'll be in relative safety. The problem is that the handle is on Ben's side. The man only needs to spread his arm or leg to stop him. And Ben, noticing where he's looking, flexes his biceps, flashing Hux a wicked smile.

It's absurd. It can’t be real.

Such situations are suited for spy movies or crime novels, not for Hux's downright boring and fully normal life. He's not famous, not even in his line of work. Maybe he got into a couple of heated discussions online, but those were discussions about data representations, but no one except a handful of petty coworkers cared about it. He doesn't have potential enemies who'd— Hux doesn't even know would _what_ —send a guy for him? The nervous voice inside his head reminds him that he’s not in an opening sequence of CSI Russia.

Then there is this 'Boss', the shady company in Moscow, and rumors of Snoke's past. Yes, some parts of what the FO does is clearly illegal and borderline immoral. And yes, although he knows some secrets they aren’t that valuable, and Hux has never shown that he cares about them. Or told anyone about them. Or even mentioned them. That can't be the reason why this man –oh god, the man who looks strong and trained–knows Hux’s first name.

Right?

“Don’t be scared, _Armitage_ ,” Ben says, staring at him, with a cold and threatening tone, which indicates exactly the opposite.

Hux feels his pulse in temples. He should call for help, but his mouth is dry and his tongue doesn't want to obey him.

Can he pretend he is not Armitage Hux? Should he try to negotiate? And most importantly where is the conductor lady when Hux truly needs her?

And then he hears Ben laughing. It's warm, soft, then becomes loud and cheerful. He snorts through his nose and makes ridiculous noises.

“Oh relax, Pumpkin. I peeped in your phone when you left it on the table. There it was in your signature in the email.” He chuckles again, making a short row of low huffs, “Senior Analyst Manager Armitage Hux, The First Order Inc. But your face, man. You looked like you were ready to scream. Damn, your face was priceless. Just priceless. You have such an interesting way to express emotions. They appear with a small delay as if you aren't sure how to express them.”

"You are an idiot!" Hux hisses, but he's the one who feels like a fool.

"I know," Ben smiles. "I know. But in my defense, it was totally worth it."

"Did you start that whole game nonsense because of it? Did you plan it?"

"Maybe. But I won anyway."

“That doesn’t count,” Hux crosses his arms. “You lost!”

He's angry and embarrassed, but also feels completely stupid. How could he believe that this dumb-ass was a hired gun? Where did this thought even come from? It's not like Hux regularly watches detective shows, to create such ridiculous fantasies.

“Nope, I won. We agreed on three guesses and I was right about all the three of them. I used my observation skills, my attention to details and my good vision. Fair and square. If I made fun of you along the way, it's just a small bonus.”

“No–“ Hux starts.

“Aren’t you curious to find out what I want from you?” Ben interrupts.

"No! You cheated! And—"

"Not even a little bit?"

His voice has that husky, syrupy sweet tone again and Hux really is curious. So he nods slightly and says trying to sound repugnant and disinterested, "You may try to surprise me. What is it? One more of your practical and not funny jokes?"

“Leave this compartment,” Ben orders.

Hux frowns, standing. Not what he expected — he won't admit what exactly he expected. He wants to argue, but he also feels wounded. He definitely overestimated Ben’s interest in him. 

“And come back with more waffles from Aunt Alla, our conductor.” Ben finishes looking at Hux, obviously elated with the results.

Hux slides the door open, without saying a word. He does as he was told: goes to her, uses gestures and buys sweets.

His mind is occupied with Ben. Hux looks out a window in the corridor, watching snow-covered land passing by. The night has only started but the man was able to dazzle him and catch Hux’s interest.

Hux should not want to come back. He should not want to spend time with that strange man, but he is intrigued. They're not many sources of chaos in Hux's life—and he's more than happy about it—but today he is drawn to that disorder. It's just for one night. Tomorrow he can pretend it all has never happened.

Hux signs, cursing inwardly, hating it, and himself for enjoying it.

It’s time to begin round two, anyway.

* * *

“Soooo,” Ben huffs, looking at Hux's face, “am I right or not?”

Two empty glasses stand on the tiny white table between them. The empty packages of cookies and surprisingly tasty waffles lay there as well. The rhythmic noise of the wheels, howling of the wind outside, and jolly guitar music from the next door compartment are the only sounds that break the long pause within their small shared space.

That was Ben’s third guess. The third guess that—although it’s tough for Hux to admit—makes his obnoxious roommate a winner. Again. Two times in a row — such a disgrace for Hux.

When Hux came back, Ben apologized again for pranking him and explained that he didn't think it'd upset Hux that much. He seemed so genuinely concerned that Hux decided to let it slide.

After that, with his first guess, Ben made him smile. He said that Hux had wanted to be sorted into Slytherin. Hux was ready to tell him that was wrong, when Ben added, "When you were a kid. Now you would choose Ravenclaw, obviously."

Somehow they ended up speaking about that silly book series for almost half an hour before Hux reminded him about the game. Both had been fans when they were young. It was fun: they discussed all the plot holes, all the illogical parts, talked about the economy, politics and clear problems in the educational system of the magic world. It was a waste of time, yet Hux enjoyed it way too much.

Then Ben surprised him again —who counts for what time— stating that Hux was a cat person.

"I just _felt_ it," he explained, making a vague hand gesture, "You just look like one."

That was strange, weird and odd.

And also, in a very unexplainable way, not strange at all. Listening to Ben asserting that he _felt_ that Hux liked cat's independence and that Hux didn't need someone who'd see him as an owner, but as equal. They continued to drink that awful tea, and eat sweets and talk as if Ben really knew him. As if only an hour ago Hux hadn't promised himself to ignore him and find a new compartment at the first opportunity.

Hux had never been the person who easily connects with people, but talking with Ben was easy, no need to pretend otherwise.

And then out of nowhere, Ben looked him directly in the eyes and said seriously, burning Hux with the intensity of his gaze, "You are single. Right?"

The pause is way too long. And it’s too late to pretend that he hasn't heard the statement. Hux knows that. 

"Yes," he answers, adding quickly with a smirk. "You won. Do you want me to fetch more of this repulsive beverage? Any other servant duties?"

“No.”

Ben looks at his feet as if the small hole in his sock is the most interesting thing in the universe. There is no smile on his face. His shoulders are slouched. For the first time from the moment he entered Hux's compartment, he seems hesitant.

It lasts only a moment. If Hux wasn't staring at him, he'd miss it. Ben turns his gaze up to Hux's face, gives his usual smirk and says with his usual husky seductive voice, "I dare you to sit on my lap. Till the end of the next round. If you are comfortable with that."

Hux can't contain a small snort.

It's absurd and juvenile. No one does that. Not like that. Not as part of a game.

Hux knows almost nothing about this man, and it'd be easier if he didn't know anything at all. Because it's somehow even crazier now when he knows that Ben always wanted to be in Gryffindor and also likes cats, but hasn't had one because his dad was allergic. Getting flirty now feels almost awkward.

But Hux wants it. He wants Ben. And, not least, he wants to win.

Hux stands up, takes one small step, and his legs touch Ben’s knees, when Hux stops between them. He leans forward, almost meeting Ben’s nose with his own.

“You think I’ll give up, surrender, go away, huh?” Hux whispers. "You think I'm a quitter?"

“No,” Ben answers, strangely neutral — no mocking, teasing or fake flirting.

“I won’t. I’m not afraid,” Hux confirms, and before he or Ben can change their minds, he half turns, sits on Ben’s thigh, both his legs between Ben's, his touching Ben’s chest. “Do you really think it'll be easier for you to read me when I get closer?”

Hux asks only to break a heavy silence between them.

In his head his inner-Hux screams, blushes, and panics about Ben’s reaction. He worries about how far Ben wants to go, and how far he himself wants to go, and the fact that he doesn’t—obviously—have neither lube nor condoms with him, and that his weight might be too heavy for Ben, and that the last thought is bonkers and doesn’t matter. All these half-crazy-half-horny thoughts are organizing a pinball match in his brain.

“It will be harder, Armitage.” murmurs Ben, “Much harder. Way harder. My brain won’t have enough blood to function when you are so close. If you know what I mean.”

Ben winks at him.

It’s lame, but when Ben chuckles and his warm breath touches Hux’s neck, he forgets about that. About everything. 

“But it’s okay. I'm up for the challenge. It’s not fun when it’s too easy.”

"You think I'm easy?" Hux jokes, and then berates himself for how insecure it sounds.

"No," Ben's serious again, "There is nothing easy in you. You are complicated, constantly overthinking and anxious. Impossible to fully satisfy," Ben's hand brushes his knee, caressing his outer thigh.

Hux tilts so his head is on Ben's shoulder, pressing closer to his chest. He smells so good.

"You are difficult and demanding. Crazy and frisky," Ben's hand slides up, rubbing Hux's inner thigh this time, while Hux lightly grinds on him.

"And super kinky."

"Are these your guesses?" Hux says because he knows he's too close to losing himself, surrendering to this low voice.

"These are facts."

"Are you gonna continue playing or are you gonna give up?"

"Give up and risk spending the night in the hall?"

Hux can't see it, with his back on Ben's chest, but he definitely hears a smile in his voice.

"Then guess something," says Hux with discontent, wriggling his ass. "Or I think you rant out of 'facts'."

He isn't sure if he is upset with Ben, himself or the loud singing from the next room that keeps drawing him back to reality, and reminding him that all this is not the best idea.

"As you command, General," warm breath brushes Hux's earlobe, "Let's see: Armitage Hux, Senior Analyst manager, on a business trip in Moscow without basic knowledge of Russian," Hux feels how Ben's chest rising, each word resonates in Hux's body. "Expensive shoes, fancy clothes, manicured hands," Ben strokes his fingers, the edge of his hand, touching the soft spot on his wrist, and Hux's breath hitches. "Immaculate. Pristine. But single."

His voice is low. Hux is grinding and twitching, trying and failing to pretend it's all a distraction, a clever ruse, just a game. Ben’s hands paw Hux’s chest through his thin shirt. It drives Hux crazy. Whatever is going to happen he is up for it.

There is something novel in sitting in the brightly lit compartment, hearing voices of their next-door neighbor, knowing that the compartment is unlocked, having a conversation, a game, whatever this is and pretending that Hux doesn’t feel Ben’s erection through the soft fabric of his old sweatpants and that his own cock isn’t achingly hard.

"So my guess is, give me a drum roll," Ben's voice is close to a moan, "that this Armitage Hux doesn’t have time for a serious relationship, that he uses Grindr to find nameless stress relief for one night."

“No,” Hux shakes his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	6. Ep6: Sometimes you win, sometimes we both win

“Then what? You use Tinder, huh?” Ben asks, with surprise and light amusement. His nose proceeds to rub on Hux's cheek, acting like an oversized affection cat, warm and tender.

“No. I do not use dating apps.”

"Really? At all?"

"Really," Hux confirms, pressing closer to Ben's chest. In the chill air of the compartment, his body can be used as a heater.

“So how do you find partners? Bar?”

“Yes, most of the time,” Hux doesn't know why he admits this or why they even continue talking. Oh, yeah Hux was the one who wanted this.

“Damn," Ben chuckles, his chest slightly vibrates under Hux's hands. "I was sure such a busy man like you don’t have time for the hustle of offline flirting.”

“I do not,” Hux goes with honesty.

It was months since the last time he found the opportunity and energy to even go out, let alone for something fun. And even when Hux saw fitting partners after a minute of talking all desires died in him.

“That means you won,” whispers Ben into his ear, teasing it, “What now? Do you want me to leave?”

He moves his head, staring into Hux's eyes. The angle is strange. Their faces are way too close. Hux sees his big nose, moles, and a hint of stubble on his cheeks. He feels Ben's warm breath. He hears his heart beating. Or maybe it's Hux's own.

The stupid game is over. Hux won. After all Ben's tricks and borderline cheating, it's his chance to show power, to feel great, to have a small victory amidst the weeks disaster. Hux can do to Ben what the universe has been doing to him today, ruining his plans, and making him struggle.

“Yes, I did. I won,” Hux grins, pulling back. “And of course I want you to leave. You are a roommate from hell, constantly distracting me, and I need time and space to properly rest. And yes, I'll make you leave. Eventually. The next round. But first... I’m a busy man, as you know, and I can’t waste such an opportunity. I dare you—" Hux makes a dramatic pause staring at Ben, and then smiles widely, "to take off your shirt.”

The pout and surprise that started to appear on Ben's face changes to an annoyed grimace and then almost immediately back to his smug grin.

"You think you are funny?" he asks, irritated. Even Hux can hear that it's totally an act.

"I am funny," Hux continues grinning, "You just aren't ready to admit it. Oh, don't be angry. I'm sorry, Ben. I really am. But your face, it was priceless."

Yeah, mocking Ben is even funnier than making him actually go away. Now they both are giggling like kids. And it feels so—Hux searches for the word but all that comes to his mind is  _ genuine. _

"Okay-okay, you totally got me," Ben says, continuing laughing and staring to pull his shirt up. That's not an easy task with Hux on his leg, leaning into him.

"Wait," Hux stops him when he almost loses his balance and needs to brace himself on Ben's chest. That provokes even more giggles.

"I want to savor my reward," he places his hand on Ben's wrist. The wrist is that is so thick that Hux's fingers can't lock.

He stays on Ben’s lap, only turns around and faces the man, "You can start the show."

Not stopping chuckling, Ben apparently attempts to be seductive, slowly wiggling off his shirt, biting his lower lip and before throwing his shirt on the floor he puts it around Hux and moves it like a stripper would move a feather boa in old movies.

Now Hux has a chance to look closer at him, and he is fascinated. Ben's body is—for the lack of a better word—perfect. A cover of a magazine- perfect. A heartthrob from a rom-com perfect. He swallows staring at a constellation of moles on pale skin, hairless muscular chest, abs that initially got his attention when Ben changed his clothes a bit more than an hour ago. Hux’s own body—not muscular or sexy at all— almost touches him.

"You like what you see, huh?" he hears from Ben, when the pause becomes long.

Hux nods, not trusting his voice. He knows he’s staring but can't take his eyes off him. He should downplay it, pretend that he's not that dazzled, maybe say something mean, but Hux only shugs — Ben is hot, and they both know it.

“It’s your turn to guess, Armitage,” Ben is smug, surely pleased with the reaction.

"What?" he asks, barely audible.

"The dare game. Or are you going to capitulate before my mighty genius, Staring General?"

The recent developments and proximity of Ben's bare chest made Hux completely forget of the rest of the world. He was sure that they left the silly dare behind. Now when Ben is half-naked, and Hux rubbing his ass on Ben's thigh there are so many more interesting things to do. But after this sly comment, he rethinks it. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Ben. You've cheated the first time. You were lucky the second and lost the third. Not much of a genius in my eyes. It looks more like you want me to stop so I won't shame you." He was never afraid of challenges. Even if the challenge is continuing playing the guessing game when his body is on fire.

"Okay, smart ass, now is your chance to shine."

Damn, he was almost completely sure Ben will turn it all into a joke and they will move to fun activities.

It's all weird. Like the rest of this weird trip.

The truth is Hux wants to guess. He wants to ask. He wants to find more about Ben. And yet he wants him to stay a mysterious rude asshole. Because Hux doesn’t want this to become even a bit real. He doesn’t have time for real. Real is boring. Real is complicated. Real has feelings, real can be hurt and can punch back.

"Any time, darling," Ben says, his fingers running down Hux's spine, distracting him.

"Don't rush me. We didn’t agree on any time frame. I need to—," his breath hitch, when he feels Ben's feather-light touch on his lower back. Hux looks at his eyes, trying to remember why they aren't kissing. "I need to get more comfortable."

Rearranging himself and ordering Ben what to do, Hux changes the pose, straddling this gorgeous man. Hux’s knees are on the hard bed, while his ass is touching Ben’s crotch.

He understands that it isn’t the most pleasant position after a minute or so of pretending that he's contemplating his guess. His knees will hate him tomorrow. He’d rather wrap his legs around Ben's thick torso. But he’s afraid to move again, to ruin the moment completely, afraid to make it real.

The silence is hanging. The pause continues. The thoughts are scattered. Warm hands keep caressing Hux’s sides, making him want to murmur. His own fingers are playing with the hair on the back of Ben's neck. Hux peeks at his face. His expression is strange. Apparently, all that time he was watching Hux.

“You are a student,” Hux says so he can stop thinking about what Ben is thinking about. 

Ben nods, sly smile and raised eyebrows. All of his features express superiority, but he doesn’t take his eyes away from Hux’s face.

Hux doesn’t remember if anyone ever looked at him with such raw intensity. As if Ben blinks, and Hux will disappear. It's borderline rude, strange, way too much, like everything else coming from this strange man. But Hux doesn't want him to stop, not yet. He wants to commit this gaze to his memory, so tomorrow when he goes to sleep alone in his comfortable king-size hotel bed, he has something nice to think about.

Still staring, Ben slides his hand under Hux’s shirt. Unsurprisingly it's warm and delicate, and Hux needs it all over his body.

Ben exhales loudly through his nose. There is a question in his eyes. He's asking permission to move further, understands Hux.

He nods. Multiple times. Maybe too enthusiastically but who cares, there are only two of them and Hux lost his ability to play it cool, when they got on his lap. He feels both Ben's colossal hands on his bare skin, sliding up and down. Waves of pleasure go down his spine, making his toes curl, and arch his back. Ben's fingers move to his belly, and then the warmth disappears when he puts them on the lowest button.

“You may continue your guesses,” hears Hux, while Ben starts unbuttoning his shirt, hypnotizing him with his eyes. "I'm ready for your best shot."

Hux's mind is rushing, unable to come up with anything even remotely good. What to say? What else does he know about Ben? Maybe they should stop this pretense? Hux is bad at reading people, always has been. That’s why he works with numbers. That’s why he rarely goes on business trips. Humans and their inner world is not his paraphilia. Yet he agreed to it and he simply can't pass now.

He put his hands on Ben’s naked and firm belly. Damn, this man is muscular. Sportsman? Maybe, that's why he's in Russia. Model? Is there a fashion industry here? He traces moles with his fingertips, looking at Ben’s skin. It's hard to think about anything other than kissing each and every one of these beautiful brown dots. Demi-god? The perfect being with the power to mess with people's heads?

Hux knows his own face is on fire, and that he can't come up with new information about Ben, except what Ben himself has told him.

“You are from the States,” Hux says eventually. It's as cheap, silly, and borderline cheating as saying 'you know Russian' or 'you are the hottest man for miles around'. But it's not like Ben played fair.

Ben huffs and nods again, "Bravo! That was a long shot!" 

His fingers brush Hux’s nipple, teases it between them and then he lightly pitches it, making Hux tremble.

“What’s next?” Ben continues, softly laughing, “You’ll say that I’m a man.” he’s beaming. Hux should be offended, but his fingers keep playing with Hux nipples and his mind distracted “Oh, I know, you may ‘guess’ that I’m, in fact, into men?”

“Are you?” it was supposed to be a joke, but Hux’s voice turns into a moan, when one of Ben’s hands grabs his ass.

“Dunno?” with the hold on his hip bones, Ben pushes Hux down, bumping their hips. His erection is very obvious. And very promising. “Am I?”

“You study architecture,” blurts out Hux, remembering the book in his hand. He needs to win over this smug hunk. Or needs to end it, his brain debates to continue working.

“What? Why?” Ben keeps laughing, "That's kinda random, hm?"

"Your book," mutters Hux, feeling stupid, "About architecture. I thought—"

"Oh. Nope. I've just borrowed it from my roommate for travel. Love your thinking, though. If I read Crime and Punishment, would you say I'm a murderer?" he taunts, while his hands guide Hux's hips, making him grind on him like a stripper. 

"I’d say you study law. You won," Hux sighs "Again."

"Told you, I'm good at that. It's kinda my party trick. I actually studied psychology back in the States," he explains, "then moved here for Russian Literature. Watching people is my thing."

"Your parents must have been thrilled with your choices," Hux ridicules, trying to keep his voice level.

"Oh yes. Good guess, too bad it's too late," he smirks.

"Okay. You won. What's next?"

“I dare you to kiss me.” he looks at Hux and for moment Hux again sees that serious—and upset?— expression, “If— If you want obviously. It’s not like—.”

Hux doesn’t answer, instead, he puts his left-hand fingers in Ben’s hair, and right hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer and connecting their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	7. Ep7: The longer you wait, the sweeter the reward

The kiss begins messy and passionate. Hux ceased kissing like that a long time ago, probably in his freshman college year. But even back then, drunk on cheap alcohol and high on newfound freedom, his technique was more restrained.

He shuts his eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, absorbing each feeling.

They act like two horny teen boyfriends who haven’t seen each other for more than a week. They lick each other's mouths, suck and bite, deepening the kiss, and then again going back to pecking lips, moaning and whining, while their hands tug each other's hair, grabbing, squeezing, exploring. As if it's the very first time. As if this kiss is as far as they are allowed to go. As if all the stockpiled sexual energy they have, is being poured into it. Hux definitely plans to go much further, and very soon.

Ben draws Hux’s unbuttoned shirt down, seemingly reading his mind again. The cuffs are stuck on his wrist. Unbothered by that, Ben tries to yank it down anyway, groaning, but not breaking the kiss.

“Hey,” says Hux, opening his eyes, leaning back, half-faking his irritation. “Do not dare tear it. It's too expensive.”

“Sure?” Ben says. He starts to undo the small buttons, sucking on Hux’s chest, a bit on the rough side.

“For Russian literature major, the price would make a huge hole in your budget. If being an expert in long, complicated, and depressing stories didn't somehow become a lucrative profession, it'd take months for you to buy me anything remotely similar to its quality."

“Yeah? What if I pay you in an alternative way?” The first sleeve slides down, and Ben turns his attention to the next one. “I have something that I  _ guess _ you will like.”

“It’d be a full-time job to cover the damage. And a full-time job requires certain skills, and with this level of patience from your side I might start to doubt that—what?—five minutes is going to be the satisfying duration for me.”

He teases Ben on purpose. It’s a cheap shot, and not appropriate for a man of Hux’s age and status, but Ben is obviously competitive, and what could be better than a partner who craves to prove themself? And toying with Ben is fun.

“Five minutes? Do you want to make a bet?” his fingers excruciatingly slowly massage Hux's wrist, "We can set a timer and see whose performance lasts longer, if that's how you want to play it, Armitage."

“No more games,” Hux throws his shirt down when the second sleeve surrenders. Obviously, he has a clean one in his bag. He just needs to iron it. But it’s a problem for tomorrow Hux. Poor tomorrow Hux.

Ben draws Hux's wrist to his lips, kissing it and nuzzling on it, torturing Hux with his deliberately slow movements. Only when Hux starts to whine and squirm on his knees, he guides Hux's arm back to his own neck, and slides his hands down to unfasten Hux's belt. It’s not an easy task, when Hux is sucking on his shoulder neck aiming to make a hickey, biting and scratching to leave more marks.

That’s also something that Hux hasn't done in years — neither wanting that nor being allowed to do so.

Ben still struggles with the tricky buckle, but Hux is not going to help him. He is not going to stop marking him. He is not going to stop distracting him by wiggling his hips. They only have a few hours, he knows that, yet it’s hours more than Hux's usual sex adventures. He needs this one to last.

“No more games?” repeats Ben, breathing heavily, as if he only now heard Hux’s comment. His usual smirk appears again, “I’m sure we can continue, until I make you happily do all the dirty things you’ve never allowed any of your nice proper boyfriends. I can show you who is the impatient one among us.”

Filthy!

"I can go slow," the tips of his fingers brush along Hux's waistband. The goosebumps crawl on his arms in response, "Tease you until you fall apart."

“Yes,” Hux whines, not carrying how pathetic he must sound “Yes, please.”

The belt has finally given up. Ben throws it on the floor. It falls with a muted thud. He unzips Hux's pants, pulling both them and underwear down, trying to expose his ass. It’s even harder in this position — they get stuck around Hux’s thighs.

“Hold on. You need to be taken with care,” Ben hooks Hux’s legs around his waist, puts one hand under Hux’s butt, sliding it under the waistband of Hux’s underpants, touching his bare skin. And his other hand squeezes Hux’s shoulder. Holding Hux like that, Ben gets up.

Hux giggles, when Ben lays him diagonally on the opposite bunk, and kneels on the floor. He unties Hux’s shoes, slowly takes off his socks, rubbing his feet, kissing his ankles. He doesn’t rush, as if he’s a pagan worshiper in front of a shrine. And only when Hux feels like he's close to begging for real, Ben pulls his pants and underpants off, leaving him completely naked with painfully hard and leaking cock.

Half-rising and resting on his elbows, Hux looks at Ben, realizing that the man has his old sweatpants still on. He can't explain why but he finds it extremely hot and fitting for the moment. Obscene thoughts of fully clothed Ben flashes in Hux's head. No, not just dressed, but Ben in these shabby pants pulled below his balls, in a stained wifebeater, and with messy hair, looking both trashy and domestic, pounding into Hux with merciless rhythm.

The loud laughter and clinking of glasses from the other side of the bulkhead make Hux shiver.

“It’s okay,” whispers Ben, leaning in for one more deep kiss, covering Hux with his body, “You are mine for tonight, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Ben's voice is playful. He puts his right knee near Hux on the edge of the cot. His hands are sliding down Hux's sides, while he leaves open-mouth kisses on Hux's neck.

Hux wants to disagree and say that he doesn’t belong to anyone and definitely not to Ben, neither for tonight nor in general.

Ben grabs him firmly again, possessively squeezing his butt with both hands.

Hux's mind briefly goes blank. He moans. Yeah, there is no reason to argue and destroy the moment. Hux arches his back, and hooks his leg on Ben's hip, drawing him closer.

"So you think I need a knight in shining armor to protect me?" he asks instead, trying to sound offended. It comes out breathless and pleading.

“Absolutely,” says Ben. "I just need to fix one last thing."

Suddenly Ben slides one of his hands under Hux, hoists him up, and moves, touching almost everything in the small space with Hux's naked body. Thankfully, there aren't a lot of things to collapse with him banging into it.

"What are you doing?" Hux can't stop an amused snort.

Ben doesn’t put Hux down, doesn’t turn around, presses Hux's bare back to the plastic surface of the door. He bolts it with a click, after fumbling with the lock between kisses for a minute.

“No more interruptions,” explains Ben.

When the door problem is solved, he turns off the ceiling light. He curses in the mix of Russian and English, after he hits his leg with something on the floor. He manages not to drop Hux during this endeavor, only holds him tighter. Hux won’t admit it out loud, but he enjoys that Ben can hold him—a tall adult man—seemingly without much effort. 

He sets Hux back on the cot, and crawls on it too. They barely fit on it. Hux lays on his back, with Ben kneeling above. It's so narrow that Ben's knee is threatening to slide down when the other one is pressed into the wall.

Ben reaches above Hux's head and turns on the small wall lamp situated above them and near the window.

“I want to see you, Armitage,” he says quietly, again giving him this perplexing intense gaze, and touching Hux's jawline with his knuckles.

“Call me Hux. Armitage— I don’t use it.”

“Hux?” he whispers as if he's trying it in his mouth. Apparently, liking it, he smiles in the dim light. "Hux, I wanted to fuck your mean, haughty ass from the moment I saw you. Even before you started behaving like an asshole," the smile doesn't leave his face even when he covers Hux's chin and neck with quick gentle kisses. "And even more after you did. Damn, it's like you come from my most marvelous dream. It's like you are a fantasy that came to life: gorgeous, smart, sophisticated, and all mine for tonight, I'm going to treat you so well, Hux."

"Please do," moans Hux, wriggling, and rubbing himself on Ben. "Don't make me beg."

Judging from Ben’s wicked smile that was the wrong thing to say.

“It’s tempting to make you,” he keeps leaving these small almost feather touch kisses on Hux’s neck. “I know I can. I can tease you. I can do it really slow. And you’d beg so sweetly with your crisp arrogant accent, but,” Ben nuzzles his collarbone, and Hux understands that he’s indeed teasing him again, “we have no time for that,” he bites Hux’s nipple, making him gasp, “Every second counts.”

“Please,” Hux doesn’t recognize his own voice. It doesn't sound like his usual superior tone at all. It’s tiny and almost inaudible. He needs friction, he needs touches, he needs...

Ben slides down. Slow. Excruciatingly, deliberately slow and ungraceful on the narrow bed. Hux can take it no more.

"Please."

“Please what, Hux?” Ben rubs his cheek on Hux’s belly, somehow not touching him anywhere else. “Use that pretty mouth of yours and ask.” 

“Please,” Hux repeats, not sure what he is asking for, while Ben licks his inner thigh, “Please, Ben, I need you, please. I want you. Now. Please.”

“Shh,” Bens exhales on the head of Hux’s cock, and even this soft touch drives Hux crazy “I got you.”

Hux bucks his hips up not able to contain himself. It’s not enough and too much. The heavy hand on his hip bone pins him down, fingers digging into his flesh, while the second hand massages his balls and perineum.

The warm and wet mouth engulfs him, at the same time Hux feels a finger circling his entrance, probing him, drawing irregular patterns, but not entering. Hux tries to wriggle, inviting it inside. He’s dry and unprepared, but at this point, he’s way past caring.

The hand on his hip bone tightens, threatening to leave finger-shaped bruises if Hux doesn't behave.

"Please," Hux sobs, wanting nothing more than to clench Ben’s long hair, and hold him down, instead he puts his hands on Ben’s shoulders, not even squeezing, just anchoring himself to reality by making small circles on Ben’s skin.

Ben takes him deeper, moving rhythmically up and down, lapping and licking. He is good at it: he has technique but acts with passion.

The fingertip presses inside Hux's entrance, not yet breaching him. It's enough for him to turn his face into his shoulders, trying to silence his own moaning. Not that it helps.

“Ben,” Hux whimpers. “I'm close.”

“Already?” asks Ben, taking his cock out, breathing heavily and looking at Hux's eyes. Hux notices an absolutely triumphant smile on his face.

“I–”

Ben doesn't wait for the answer and goes back to sucking his cock, swallowing it whole in one motion. Hux comes almost immediately, after only a couple of movements. He muffles his cry, biting his hand, going still, and then shuddering with his whole body. 

He pants and swallows, while Ben kisses his belly.

“It was the long foreplay,” he explains mildly embarrassed after he finds an ability to talk again.

“Long?” Ben says with a ragged voice, huffing. He gets back up and sprawls on top of Hux, continuing chuckling and rubbing his dick on Hux's leg. Animal. “Foreplay? You know nothing, Armitage Hux. And all your previous lovers suck. Not in a good way. Really. You need to write a formal complaint to all of—”

"Shut up," says Hux but without real anger in his voice. His eyes are closing, and he yawns, content.

"Nope," teeth close on his shoulder, bringing mild pain, waking him up. The following licking and kissing convince Hux of Ben’s animalistic essence, "None of that, no time for relaxing, Hux. You'll sleep during your boring business meeting tomorrow."

His more intense grinding makes Hux's tired cock stir back to attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	8. Ep8: Coming and going

“I'm going to thoroughly fuck your pretty mouth, Hux," Ben’s warm breath touches his ear.

"And you are going to let me come in it. I know you will.” Ben sucks his earlobe, pressing Hux’s bottom lip down with his thumb.

Hux can’t help but licks it. He feels thoroughly hypnotized by Ben's low timbre.

“And then you’re gonna swallow every last drop of my cum.” Ben moves his thumb inside his mouth pressing Hux’s tongue down. Hux obediently closes his lips and sucks on it, “like the good boy you are, right Hux? You are a good boy, right?”

Hux nods.

"Say it," Ben orders, slowly grinding on top of him.

Hux’s cock is half-hard again. One more event to the piggy bank of things he hasn’t done in a while. Two times in a row with the same person? Hux thought he was too old for that. He’s not that young to be ready for the second round that quickly, but the situation is insanely hot.

“Yes,” he mumbles, with Ben’s finger back on his lower lip, holding it with medium pressure. “I’m a good boy, and I’ll suck your cock, and swallow everything.” And to prove himself, Hux moves forward, taking Ben’s thick index finger fully in his mouth and swirling his tongue around.

Getting some stranger's genitals into his mouth never was on the list of Hux’s favorite pastime activities. He rarely did that even for his long-term partners and only after they showered. Afterwards he was racing to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. Even in his college days, even when he was drunk, he prefered to opt out of it.

Now he craves it, moaning around Ben's finger.

It's too little. He needs the real thing. He wants to get filled. He wants his lips to stretch. He wants to be used for someone else's—Ben's—pleasure.

As if knowing that, Ben adds a second finger. His other hand clasps Hux's neck, not aiming to hurt but making it a bit harder to breathe. That melts the remaining scraps of Hux's mind.

"Look at you, Hux." Ben puts a third finger in. "You are perfect like this."

Ben's fingers leave Hux's mouth. Before he whimpers his protests, Ben's tongue takes their place, claiming him and devouring him, while his wet fingers tangle in Hux's hair massaging his head, and the other hand slides down to his waist with the same possessive energy.

Hux moans with each exhale, overwhelmed with the sensation of Ben being all over him, still aching and searching for more contact.

Ben hugs him, staring at him, not breaking the kiss. He sits up pulling Hux with him by his hip and neck. They continue kissing, with Hux sitting on his lap, his ankles locked behind Ben's back. The hand from his neck moves to Hux’s shoulder, pressing with moderate strength, and the other hand slides to Hux's knee guiding him on the floor.

Hux doesn't need the hint to understand what Ben wants from him.

He settles down on the floor. His naked knees are touching the rough surface of the carpet. He puts hands on Ben's hips, looking him in the eyes, silently begging for him to command.

Hux can swear he's never felt this way before.

He's kneeling completely naked in front of the man—the asshole? almost stranger!— in the seedy sweatpants, whom he’s known for a couple of hours on the dirty floor of the shitty train. Yet this is the most thrilling sexual experience of Hux’s life. What does it say about him? This is also the problem of tomorrow Hux, and maybe his therapist too.

Ben smirks and puts his fingers in Hux’s hair, looking like he knows  _ exactly _ what is going on in Hux's head. Maybe he does, and that makes it even hotter.

“Show me, Hux, how good you can be,” his voice is cooing, deliberately soft and patronizing. 

His expression is smug. He strokes Hux's hair, as one would do with a pet. It definitely should not be that hot, but it is. Hux leans into the touch, nodding, ready to finally prove himself.

He unties Ben’s sweatpants and pulls his hard cock out of them. That's one very good looking one, porn movie good. It’s even bigger than Hux expected, thick, with untrimmed pubic hair and surprisingly circumcised—that’s going to be the first time for Hux.

He licks his hand, covering it with a sick layer of saliva, locking his eyes with Ben's.

Hux gives it a few strokes, not sure if he should look at this glorious cock or at Ben’s face searching for his reactions, moving his gaze from one to another. When the smirk disappears from Ben's lips Hux concentrates on the task at hand. 

Hux gingerly licks the head, as if he's never done it before. It tastes of sweat, but Hux enjoys the virility of it. He laps on it still not taking it in but already starting to lose himself in the action. He's destroyed, finished, completely melting in the want to make it good for Ben. He can't help but nuzzle on Ben's cock with his cheek and nose, like a good pet.

Ben huffs a laugh. Somehow it doesn't sound humiliating but warm and encouraging. Ben's hands continue stroking the hair on Hux's nape.

Hux covers his teeth, takes Ben’s cock deeper, helping himself with both hands, trying to simultaneously lick it and suck the rest of it, attempting to make it good for Ben, to be good for Ben.

His lips are stretched, spit is drooling from the corners. His head is light with want. He relishes in Ben's ragged breathing, in his groaning, in how his fingers twitch.

Ben's hips jerk up.

It's not that easy. Ben is big. And Hux needs to pull back, coughing, unable to suppress his gag reflex.

"You can do it," Ben growls, "Hux."

He goes deeper again, feeling a warm and demanding hand on the back of his neck. The pressure isn't enough. Hux wants to beg for more, to beg Ben to make him choke on his cock, to hold him there and fuck his mouth. He wants Ben to use him, to take all he needs from Hux, without thinking of his comfort. But all Hux can do is make a moan around him, and try harder.

Ben's low and broken voice continues to encourage him until it turns into hushed groans.

Ben shudders. A growl and tightening of his hands on Hux's neck are all the warning Hux gets before Ben goes still for a moment and comes inside Hux's throat.

Hux keeps swallowing, pulling a bit away when the hand relaxes so he won't gag again. He cleans Ben with his tongue, irrationally proud that he didn't lose even a drop as he promised. 

The taste of his come is on Hux’s lips when Ben pulls him up for a deep kiss. All he can do is weakly mewl into Ben’s mouth and wrap his legs and arms around him.

Hux moans, and whines, so close to the edge, so hard, so lost, that he can’t even beg. 

Ben moves him like a ragdoll. Again. He places Hux back on the narrow bed and crawls on him. Ben caresses his face, grinding on him, covering his face with kisses and murmuring praises, the meaning of which escapes Hux's sex-drunk brain.

"You are perfect," he whispers sucking on Hux's neck, "So good for me."

Hux hears a broken sob. It takes him a moment to realize it's his own mouth that is making it.

"I got you," Ben says.

His hand covers Hux's mouth.

"Lick it for me," he asks, and Hux immediately complies. Whatever Ben wants from him, Hux knows he will give it. Gladly.

Ben's hand slides between their bodies curling around Hux's cock. He knows exactly what Hux needs, implying just the right pressure, moving with just the right speed. He bites Hux's earlobe, making him gasp.

"You need someone who'll take proper care of you," he groans, "someone who knows how to handle such an exquisite man, You need someone who knows how to make you pliant and relaxed," he sucks on Hux’s neck.

“I wish you could properly fuck you right now,” he says kissing Hux’s chin “I wish I could have heard you screaming my name,” he kisses Hux and that that the moment Hux trips over the edge, moaning into Ben's shoulder.

Hot come hits Hux’s belly. He doesn't care—about anything really—going limp under Ben.

The weight disappears, and a few moments later Hux feels fabric cleaning his body. Through the half-closed eyelids, Hux can see that Ben is wiping him with a towel that comes with their train bedding.

“Oh, poor Hux,” Ben says, when he notices that he is watching him, “It’d be hard for you to go back to your sad quickies in fancy bars after this night with me.” He places a kiss on Hux's forehead, throwing the towel away. "You won't be able to be with anyone else without comparing them with me."

That’s cheesy. Probably true, but still cheesy.

Hux doesn’t care. At all. He doesn’t have strength either for playing or for denying. Neither for saying something equally cheesy in return. He needs to sleep. Right now.

Ben, as if reading his mind again—or maybe that what people do when they care about their partners?— stands up and covers Hux with a blanket.

“Drink it,” he puts a water bottle in Hux's hand, “and lay here for a moment,” as if Hux was going to move. But he drinks, muttering his lifeless thanks.

“Hey, ” Ben’s voice takes him from his nap, since he apparently fell asleep "you need to move, babe."

Hux opens his eyes and realises that Ben’s turning off the light. He guides Hux to the second bunk, where Hux finds bed linen, pillow, and blanket already prepared for him. Presumably by Ben.

Hux wraps himself in the blanket and turns to the wall, saturated with pleasant exhaustion.

“Stay with me,” Hux surprises himself by saying so.

"I'm sorry," Ben's voice sounds like he really is sad, "It's too tiny. We can't—"

"Just for a bit," Hux interrupts him, thinking  _ until I fall asleep _ .

Ben says nothing.

Hux is sure he is back in his own bunk already, but then he feels Ben's warm chest on his back. He's right, it’s impossible to sleep like that but maybe they can hug for a little while.

Hux is not sure if they did. He is alone on the narrow cot. He turns onto his other side, shielding himself from the cold with the blanket. Opening his eyes and adjusting to the dim semidarkness, he understands that he must have slept for some time. Then it hits him — the train isn’t moving.

Fighting back the strong urge to close his eyes again, Hux props himself up on his elbow, draws the curtain and peeks through the dirty window. He sees streetlights and a shabby train station covered in deep snow.

"Ben?" Hux whispers. "The Russian expert" must know what is going on.

Hux looks closer at the opposite bunk, after not hearing a sound in return. There is no one there, only disarrayed bedding. He turns around searching for Ben — there is no one in the compartment but him. Not like there was any possibility for the man of his size to hide in this cupboard of a room. Nor is Ben’s clothes or his bag is laying around either.

Is it St. Petersburg already?

Hux makes an effort to collect his thoughts. His phone is not on the table, where he thinks he left it yesterday when they started the dare game. No, there are only empty glasses and wrappers from sweets.

"Don't steal these glasses, Pumpkin", Ben said. Hux thought it was absurd, but now both Ben and Hux's phone are missing.

Hux keeps looking for it. His panic rises higher when he understands that he can't see his own clothes either. They should lay haphazardly on the floor. His shoes are standing on the dirty carpet but nothing more, not even his pants.

Then, when Hux is ready to put on his coat on his naked body and call for the police, it flashes in his mind — his bag. He looks under the table and exhales loudly.

There it is, his bag, and his clothes semi-neatly folded on top of it. He finds his phone in his pants pocket.

It has a connection and even 3G. Hux checks the time —5.08 am. No, not St. Petersburg. So where is Ben?

He tries to remember if Ben has ever stated that he was traveling there too. It was a logical assumption that he was also going to the final station too, but he as well might have left earlier.

So, apparently that’s what’s happened — Ben disappeared somewhere during the night, without saying goodbye, and without warning Hux in advance.

Who cares? Definitely not Hux. It was just a random one night stand. It's not like he planned to see Ben ever again. The man didn't steal anything — well, thanks to him for that. And Hux needs to sleep, it’s a good thing that Ben didn’t wake him up either.

Very considerate of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  If you like this work you can check my other works.  
> Current WIPs:  
> translation of the famous Russian AU [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280) It's really great, so I highly recommend to read it!  
> bottom Ben/top twins Hux and Techie [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863)
> 
> Finished:  
> fantasy AU[drop the curtain, blow out the candles ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)  
> Moder AU-[my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956)  
> Moder-au [Up All Night ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> post-tlj [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)


	9. Ep9: Walk of shame

The steel wheels are tapping. The carriage is swaying. The train is moving again, Hux understands. Through his sleep, he hears fuzzy noises, the rustling of fabric, clicking of the lock, loud female voice, more whispering, a door opening, muffled cursing. But when he finally opens his eyes, he's still alone in the compartment. It's gloomy outside, early morning in the winter, but the ceiling lamp has been turned on, offending his eyes with bright light.

He looks through the window and sees a snow-covered forest stretching at all the directions, and nothing else. It's dark and scary, no sane person would go there for all the money in the world. But it's also beautiful and alluring. A strange combination. It reminds Hux of the old children's fairy tales — if you are brave enough to enter, you will find wonders.

He spots two full glasses of tea on the table. They are exactly the same as the last night — the ones that Hux supposedly wants to steal. But today Hux can scent that their content is much better. Even the rich golden-brown color points out for the better quality. A rather big paper bag that smells of sweet pastry lays near it. He peeks into it and yes, there are various buns and croissants. Too bad they are cold. His belly grunts. Warm or cold, he will devour them all.

The mystery is easily solved — it must be the lady conductor. Ben left somewhere amidst endless Russian wasteland, didn't lock the door behind him, and in the morning the conductor came with beverages and food. A tiny sentimental voice tells him that Ben paid her in advance and it's very kind for one-night-stand to bother about Hux’s breakfast. He silences that voice. And even if it was Ben's surprise, it only rubs into Hux's face that Ben knew he'd get laid.

Loudly sighing, Hux spreads his arm and grabs his luggage. He takes out clean underwear, packed neatly in a small dark green package, that he’d bought for his rare travels. He chases all the thought about Ben away. Whatever happened, whether or not he left the tea for Hux doesn't matter, bottom line: the man is not here now. He didn’t even leave his phone number. Not that Hux wanted it.

The cot in front of him is without linen. Hux tries to remember if it was the same when he woke up before. Probably not, but he recalls it vaguely, he isn't even adamant that Ben got bedding for himself, after preparing everything for Hux. That was sweet, but either way, the whole last night seems like a peculiar dream in the dim light of the day. Hux can't believe any of that was real. It was so not like him.

He dresses, contemplating if he should be ashamed of everything that happened on this train, when the door slides open. Hux turns to see the lady conductor and finally berate her for the uninvited break-in. For god sake, he was half-naked only a moment ago. But instead of the angry middle-aged Russian woman, he sees a smiling Ben. The man in front of him is already in his normal fully-black clothes from yesterday's evening and with a small plastic bag from which toothpaste and a razor stick out. A clean towel is around his neck.

“Morning, sleeping beauty," the man beams at him.

"Morning," mumbles Hux, feeling lost. Why is Ben here? Did he dream of being alone in the middle of the night?

"Good you are awake. You were sleeping so deeply, that I started to worry that our adventures drained you completely. By the way, you snored in the morning," he smiles even more brazenly. “It’s kinda cute, like a small snorting,” and, appeared, to prove his point Ben makes a grunt with his nose —  _ yeah, it is kinda cute _ .

Hux doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't open his mouth, staring at Ben.

"Anyway… You need to hurry up," Ben says when the pause stretches.

"Where?"

"To the toilet. We'll arrive in St Petersburg in half an hour and the bathroom will be closed in fifteen minutes. It doesn't make sense, so don't even ask. They just have these stupid rules, and nothing- not even my charms will making her open it for you. Plus there might be a line to the bathroom, so every second counts.”

Now Hux has questions, a lot of them, but he doesn’t know which one to ask first.  _ Why are you here? _ It would be a good start.

“Sorry what?” Hux says. Admittedly, not the best work of his brain, but the toilet nonsense got him off track.

“Take this towel, the other one you sullied yesterday,” he gives Hux a salacious smile which can only mean _ ‘I’ve fucked you, yes I did!’ _ "and go there now. If you missed it, she won't open the bathroom for you, and you'll need to hold it till we arrive. And I will take care of your bedding."

“All my hygienic things are in my luggage,” mumbles Hux, looking over the compartment, feeling more than lost. “I need—”

“Take mine and hurry up, silly non-native,” Ben says mimicking Russing accent, putting his own bag into Hux's hand and the towel into another, “go, and don’t use my toothbrush, I know where your pretty filthy mouth was.”

“I know where yours was t—” Hux isn't able to finish because Ben pulls him for a kiss.

It's deep, passionate and possessive, the one not suited for an early morning with a stranger. Awkward too, both of his hands occupied with things, and he can't answer when Ben's hands start roaming around his body. Nevertheless, the kiss ignites him. The crazy thought comes to him. But, nah, Ben is right. They don’t have time for any follow-up contact.

Ben lets Hux go, placing one more peck on his lips. He steps away, and Hux immediately misses his warmth. 

“Ugh, morning breath,” Ben says, cringing, but smiles, touching Hux's nose with his own, “Go! Now!”

And he pushes Hux out of the compartment.

With a fresh face and much cleaner mouth—as clean as one can get by squishing toothpaste in and rinsing it—Hux hesitates at the door. Every second he's around Ben, he is pulled by his immensely intense energy. He can't critically think when this huge and strangely handsome man smiles at him.

Whatever wild ideas come to his mind, he just needs to ignore them until they arrive and split to go their own way. Twenty more minutes to resist his black hole-like gravity.

But how to ignore someone that enormous in such a small room is a riddle. Hux tries to be detached. He tries to pretend he's busy packing, but in a couple of minutes, they are sipping tea and eating sweats less than a meter apart. And no one knows what patience Hux summons not to crawl on Ben's lap instead.

On the bright side, the tea is okay-ish. A huge improvement compared to what they drank yesterday. Hux looks at the rich brown color and struggles not to think of Ben's eyes, small wrinkles around the corners when he smiles, his warm skilled hands...

“Do you like it?”

“It’s passable.” Hux pulls his gaze up at Ben, and the man is staring at him as if reading his reaction is the most crucial thing in the world. One more time, Hux imagines that Ben is reading his thoughts, and his cheeks get warmer.

“Thank you for this high praise, Mr. Hux. I'm endlessly sorry for not meeting your high standards, but that was the best one I could find in the no-name station in the middle of the cold Russian winter night,” Ben gives him his usual smirk. "No biggie. No need to bother with standing ovations."

“As I said it was passable,” Hux smirks back. "It is high praise," and adds after a small pause, "Thank you."

"Oh, you are way too kind, my spoiled nobleman," Ben continues teasing him, "I've only almost frozen my balls out, and almost missed our train while searching for something that might satisfy your refined taste."

"I think you know how to satisfy me," Hux says, meeting Ben's gaze and trying to maintain a serious tone but after a second of playing a staring contest they both laugh.

The tips of Ben's fingers touch his on the table. Hux doesn't move his hand. He fixes his eyes on their hands, telling himself over and over again to take it away, to ask Ben to stop. But eventually, he is the one who squeezes Ben's hand harder. Hux doesn't look back at his eyes, but he knows Ben's watching him.

That is one strange morning indeed.

When the train stops in their final destination Hux feels weird. Weirder that for the rest of this weird eight hours. Nothing of what has happened was his plan, it wasn’t what he was expecting in any way. But he doesn’t regret it. He doesn't want it to end. Not like this. And that's the weirdest part.

“Where are you planning to go now?” asks Ben, helping him get out of the carriage, to the snowy and slippery train station of St. Petersburg, and dragging him out of the way of the crowd flow. There is nothing there, nowhere to hide, no column, or kiosk — they stay in the middle platform, but at least they aren't pushed around.

“Taxi. Then my hotel,” answers Hux to Ben's boots. "I told you I have a meeting in a few hours."

“Let me guess, Pumpkin, you are staying in a fancy chain hotel in the city center,” Hux can't get if he sounds upset, or Hux wants him to sound upset. Hux was never good at reading people. What wouldn't he give right now to have Ben's gift of 'reading' thoughts?

“Let me guess,” Hux says after nodding, desperately trying to sound mocking, “you are staying in a cheap-ass youth hostel in the outskirts.”

“You lost. Again," Ben answers, sounding funny. Hux raises his eyes to check if he's smiling. He isn’t., "It’s not on an outskirt. It’s actually only three stations away from here, then 20 minutes walk. Technically, almost the city center. Not a youth hostel either. But you can call it that if you like. I’m staying with a friend on his couch,” Ben looks at him searching for something, “and you can come with me if you want.”

“Why would I?” asks Hux, trying to come up with any reason. “A nice room with a minibar is already waiting for me. All prepaid, and it's close to the office.”

“Because we can have an incredible time together, and do so many things that we haven't tried yet. Because it will make me very happy. And more importantly, because that’s what you want. You can pick which one do you like more,” says Ben.

There are so many arguments in Hux's mind: he doesn't have time for that, that was the only one-night thing, it'll complicate things, we don't even like each other, I can't stay with your friend, it's not what grown-ups do. All these answers feel shallow, and Hux can't manage to force them out.

They stay like that, there on the almost empty platform, not saying a thing to each other. In the silence, they go through the station building, and out to the street, going side by side, almost touching each other during the way.

The row of cabs are waiting for the passages right after the exit, and across the square from them is the round palace-looking building with big blue M, which marks the entrance to St Petersburg underground.

"Taxis are here, Hux. But it's better to call it via the app, or they will overcharge you," says Ben.

"It's okay. The company is paying."

Then Ben gives him a quick kiss on a cheek not paying any attention to the river of passenger or train station workers in uniform.

"Take care, Hux," he says, and turns away heading to the underground.

Hux is left standing there, in the crowd, snow falling on his uncovered head, and melting on his face.

Honestly, that would be so stupid to follow this man—the man he doesn't even know, a poor student, an asshole—even if it’s what he wants, even if the sex was great, and even if he smells nice. That is not according to the plan. That is not reasonable. That is illogical.

And anyway, Hux has a meeting in three hours, they wouldn't have time for anything fun.

Hux is ready to turn around, sliding his hand into his pocket, grabbing his phone to get Uber. Yet he doesn't look away from Ben’s covered in black silhouette going further away.

Then Ben turns, gives him his signature smirk.

Hux can't help smiling back and quickly steps to catch up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to be short (up to 2.5k) and I plan to post them twice a week: Saturday and Wednesday.  
> If you liked the story, I'd be glad to see your kudos and comments.  
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> And thanks to [@UkraineValeriya](https://twitter.com/UkraineValeriya) for cheering and encouraging me!
> 
> Without you both I wouldn't post it!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Shameless self-promo**  
>  _modern AUs:_  
>  Famous Russian AU, that my friends and I translated [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/)  
> Demon!Hux / hunter!Kylo [Dating a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904)  
> Hux/Kylo/Techie, pwp with feelings and bottom!Kylo [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863/)  
> Russian train AU [The train on fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458/)  
> roommates AU, there was only one bed [Up All Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> co-workers on a long business trip, friends to lovers [my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956/)
> 
>  _Canon:_  
>  post-tlj, media AU [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)
> 
>  _Fantasy AUs:_  
>  Hux is a merman, Kylo is a Sea Warlock [The Little Merman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610624/)  
> Arranged marriage, Hux needs to marry a mysterious man and Kylo needs to deliver him there [drop the curtain, blow out the candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)
> 
>  _Collection of ficlets_  
>  Ficlets for Kyluxpositivity [In all the worlds, in all the times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771663)


End file.
